 | Lyrics (1895) |  |
15
IN THE GARDEN
Between the gusts of toil and fate
I catch at that imagined peace,
That sweetness incommunicate
Which ceases, ere it seems to cease.
I catch at that imagined peace,
That sweetness incommunicate
Which ceases, ere it seems to cease.
The wind, this bright September morn,
Blows large and clear across the down;
Before me stirs the moving corn,
Behind me hums the little town:
Blows large and clear across the down;
Before me stirs the moving corn,
Behind me hums the little town:
The garden terrace where I stand
Is sheltered from the restless breeze;
I hear it rustling in the land,
I see it rocking in the trees.
Is sheltered from the restless breeze;
I hear it rustling in the land,
I see it rocking in the trees.
16
The partridge from the stubble calls;
The distant guns unheeded boom;
And on the mellow garden-walls
The bulging plum puts on her bloom.
The distant guns unheeded boom;
And on the mellow garden-walls
The bulging plum puts on her bloom.
Along the walks the ample phlox
In warm luxuriance opens wide;
The red-rosetted hollyhocks;
Toss their pale stalks in upstart pride;
In warm luxuriance opens wide;
The red-rosetted hollyhocks;
Toss their pale stalks in upstart pride;
They drink at will the vital air,
They hope beneath the chilly sky,
They thrive unchidden, nor compare
Their sweetness with their dignity.
They hope beneath the chilly sky,
They thrive unchidden, nor compare
Their sweetness with their dignity.
Learn here to be at peace, my soul;
A truce to all unkindly fears;
The light that shines beyond the goal
Throws back the shadow of the years.
A truce to all unkindly fears;
The light that shines beyond the goal
Throws back the shadow of the years.
17
O fickle heart, amid the din
Still craving, craving after rest,
Before thy harvest-time begin,—
What, art thou never to be blest?
Still craving, craving after rest,
Before thy harvest-time begin,—
What, art thou never to be blest?
Ay, when thy sorrows are complete,
Thy vaunted idols overthrown,
Some day, hereafter, thou shalt beat
As peacefully as nature's own.
Thy vaunted idols overthrown,
Some day, hereafter, thou shalt beat
As peacefully as nature's own.
| Lyrics (1895) | |